


Breath

by yeaka



Category: AER: Memories of Old (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:53:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29349231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: A small respite.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 3





	Breath

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own AER or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The further north she flies, the hotter she feels, even though the cold wind rifles through her feathers and grows ice along the bone. It’s a gnawing, cloying warmth inside her body that ripples just beneath the skin, trying to get out. When she swirls into human-hood at the peak of a lone island, just a small thing floating high above a larger summit, that warmth protects her from the snow. She sinks down into it, still heavy and mortal, but the frigid temperature’s not half so debilitating as it should be. She sees the telltale white marks down below of remnants, whispers of lost souls, and she could leap down with ease, lift her lantern, and see what secrets they hold. But the journey’s starting to become as hard as she knew it would be. The gravity of it is finally setting in on her. She doesn’t _want_ to trudge forward—she just knows that she _has to_.

Not yet. It isn’t that pressing anymore. She knows it is—the animals say as much, and the few settlers still around, but the floating landscapes aren’t falling like they should be and won’t if she waylays a little longer. She tells herself she might’ve missed some scroll or vital clue southward, and she leaps out of the snow that’s piled over her boots. Her orange wings stretch out again, and she rises up a sheer ninety-degree angle before flipping back and following the billowing breeze away. It’s easier to fly south. The world itself seems to be pushing her away from the final key. A part of her doesn’t want it anyway.

She soars past the places still slick with frost and finds a small plateau of pure green grass. She overshoots at first—turning back when her trajectory is still taking her over the edge, but a quick jaunt as a bird fixes that, and she finally sets foot square in the middle. Flourishing trees rise up around her, a few bushes, a waterfall rumbling in the distance. In certain places, everything looks _peaceful_.

It isn’t. She knows that. But there aren’t black rocks here to see it, so she pushes it out of her mind. She lets her knees bend and takes a seat amidst the quiet hills. It feels like she’s been flying for days without end, exploring and persevering and putting her body through the stress of speaking with spirits— _gods_ almost too much for her to handle. She just needs a moment to _breathe._

She’ll get up again, of course. She knows she will press forward. Medvin’s counting on her. And she can feel the memory of Karah in the light of her lantern, there even when it’s off, always guiding her through darkness. Supporting her. Discovering the little tidbits of Karah’s journey has been the highlight of Auk’s own and gives her the strength to beat her wings. 

A fox putters out from a nearby bush, bright orange and tattooed with white swirls, every bit as majestic as the great spirit that spoke to her so many islands ago. This one is far smaller, softer, but it treats her just as kindly—it wanders over and nuzzles at her side, as though she’s an automatic friend and couldn’t possibly be a foe. After the horrors she’s seen the old soldiers create, it’s a wonder to her that animals can ever trust humans. But the fox mewls at her like she holds all its hopes and dreams as surely as the humans’. 

It’s the vote of confidence she needs. She knows she’s changed along her path, but to the fox, she’s just one humble creature like any other. It’s grounding. It helps her push up to her feet. It peers at her and tilts its head. 

She nods: a short promise to do it proud. To do all of them, everyone and everything, proud. Then she rushes to the edge and dives into the sky, heading north and to the end.


End file.
